Sidestory to the Little Mermaid
by Niu Shiy-Ue
Summary: Some religious issues, you might want to avoid, originally written for 'Bird and Fish' contest.


Disclaimer: Not mine. GW belongs to whoever, and the Little Mermaid, wait the Little Mermaid's past it's copyright date. Anyway, tribute to Hans Christian Anderson. Originally written for the "Where a Bird and a Fish May Fall in Love" contest.  
  
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Trowa swam, driven by the urgency of task. His tail ached with the length of his journey and the speed he had made; his arms with the weight of their burden. The blade itself was lighter than any other of it's size, but the spells woven into it multiplied it's weight a ten-, no a hundredfold.  
  
"Hurry Trowa." His youngest sister, Marimeia cast worried eyes at the boundary overhead. The shorn ends of her flame-colored hair floated about her face like a halo. "I can see the pink and gold fringe of dawn already, there's not much time left!"  
  
He nodded, too winded to speak to her. Then it was there, that familiar ship and he was passing through the barrier between the ocean and the air looking straight at the despairing face of his oldest sister. His sisters popped out beside him, flame-locked Marimeia, raven-haired Meiran and gold-tressed Sylvia. "Catherine!" he called out.  
  
She turned tired eyes to him. "Look!" He hoisted the blade out to her. "Marimeia, Meiran and Sylvia went to the sea-witch and gave her their hair in order to save you! Take this knife and stab the prince and his blood will change your legs into a tail! You can come home! Or stab the princess instead, and you can have the prince again!" She reached out and took the knife then entered the cabin. The family of merfolk waited anxiously for her to come out again, but when she did she threw the edge unbloodied into the waves before leaping in herself.   
  
"NNNOOO!!!" screamed Sylvia. They searched the waves under the rising sun just like the humans aboard the boat, but found nothing but foam. Finally, Trowa sent his sisters home, telling them he was going to continue the search. He was no more successful than the others and finally made his way to his private sanctuary, a submerged dormant volcano topped by a coral reef. There he curled up on an exposed spike and gave himself over to grief. "Why Catherine, why! We loved you, wasn't it enough to save your life!"  
  
"Foam upon the sea, whispers among the trees. Every kind deed takes a year off our sentence, every tear adds a day." Trowa snapped his head up and looked around. No human knew of this place and the merfolk avoided it, in memory of the ancient disaster that had drowned the island. So who could be talking?  
  
The vision that met his eyes was startling. A delicate frame, encased in rough brown clothing, topped with a head of short gold hair, brighter than even Sylvia's. The face was childlike; the cheeks slightly roughened by the wind. In most respects it looked like a simple peasant, but the sky-colored eyes were far too old for a human. And a pair of wings rose from the back, banishing any thoughts of humanity what so ever.   
  
The wings were gorgeous, majestically arched like a cathedral. Each individual feather was crystalline, as if made of white quartz, with an iridescent sheen over them, so that at certain angles one could see flashes of red, blue, gold or green. They delicately quivered in the sunlight, throwing rainbow flashes over the surrounding cay.  
  
"W-who are you?" Trowa licked his lips nervously. All he received was a smirk in reply. "Why are you crying?"  
  
He was offended by the callousness of this creature. "I'm crying because my sister's gone! She could have lived three hundred years, instead she chose to die! We're not like humans; we don't rise again-we don't have an immortal soul that lives forever!"  
  
"Children of the Air. Have the merfolk forgotten? Although they may not ascend to heaven directly, after death they become Children of the Air, and may rise to heaven after three hundred years of doing good deeds."  
  
"What! How do you know this! Who are you!" This time he was angry. "How do I know this? I used to be a Child of the Air."  
  
"Used to! Then what are you now?"  
  
"'Every kind deed takes a year off our sentence, every tear adds a day.' That's what they said to me. They never said what would happen if I did neither."  
  
"What?"  
  
"A Child of the Air is hardly powerless. They can go wherever air can go, so they can watch almost all of humanity. They cannot be heard by any living thing, but effect almost everything with the power of their touch. A Child can bring rain to a drought-afflicted land, spring to one that is winter frozen. They can hold off storms to bring a ship safely to shore, bend trees to shelter a weary traveler." Another bitter smirk. "But they can also call up waterspouts to sink those same ships, tornadoes to devastate those same fields, prolong winter to kill villages. They watch the earth looking for ways to aid humankind, but all I saw were humanity's crimes. Why bother saving the ship of a wicked king, why let two armies destroy innocents when I could wipe them off the face of the earth as if neither had ever existed? Yes, there were plagues to alleviate, there were children to save from falls, but there were bandits to misguide, misers who could spare what I gave to others."  
  
This was beginning to sound familiar, like one of those stories his grandfather would tell him. He could of sworn . . . "Go on."  
  
The blonde shrugged. "What else is there to tell? After 300 years of manipulating humans, they finally decided to punish me. These wings" The wings stretched then settled. "Are part of my punishment. Once I traveled over the world with a mere thought, now each sweep of these heavy stone wings drive stilettos into my back. I needed neither food nor water nor clothes, now I hunger and thirst and shiver like any other mortal. Once I effected the fate of nations, now I'm powerless. I, who could destroy armies, call up waterspouts; now I can't even lift the lightest feather. I drove men to their graves, now even if I shouted in the most crowded of marketplaces no one would hear me."  
  
"But wait, I'm talking to you right now!"  
  
"Ah, but that's not the same thing. You're a mermaid, you have no soul. I cannot damn or save you merely by speaking to you. Besides" A hand reached out, but when his hand slipped below the water, there was nothing but bubbles, no touch at all. "Even as you are, I still can't touch you so what's the use?"  
  
"You can't live below water?" The -was it an angel?- shook its head. "No, that was the one thing they left me from my time as a Child of the Air. I can never return to the world I came from. I'll live forever in this state of limbo. The only thing I can do now is watch the world above the world."  
  
Trowa wanted to ask the winged being more questions, but he realized he had to return. "I have to go now."  
  
"I understand. I'll leave immediately."  
  
"NO!" He tried to calm himself. "That's not what I meant-I really do have to go back before they miss me. But I'd like to talk to you again, if that's possible. Where can I find you?"  
  
The blonde looked intrigued. "In the thousands of years I've existed, no one's ever desired my presence before. For that alone, then. Come back here tomorrow, when the sun sets. We can talk then." Then the androgynous being spread those glorious wings and flew off.  
  
Trowa knew he should talk to someone about this, after all how safe could it be to talk to someone who treated death so callously or who lived thousands years as a fitting punishment for unknown crimes. But something about the winged being called to him. Whoever it was had once been like him before becoming whatever it was now. And those eyes, like the sea and the sky mixed together, they were so lonely. So like him. He couldn't ignore them. So he came back, and he took with him a stone, with the delicate imprint of some long ago creature that looked like a sunning lizard but had feathers of those birds of the air.  
  
And that's how their friendship began. Trowa would talk about the underwater world and would bring things up to the blonde, like the old spires of dead coral, or black pearls from oysters that lived near undersea volcanoes. The winged one, in turn, would tell Trowa about all he had seen in its existence and occasionally would guide him to places near the shores or along rivers. They traveled to a grotto where sweet fresh water would spring up before intermingling with the bitter sea. It showed Trowa unknown rivers whose streambeds were pure gold, or the gravel flashed like rainbows from the gems intermingled. Still, Trowa didn't truly know who his friend was. So finally he asked.  
  
"You must think me rude." he said while the other played with a delicate fringe of seaweed from a particular sea in the middle of the ocean. "I haven't given my name nor asked for yours. I'm Trowa."  
  
"The prince of the merfolk. I know." A pensive look came over that childish face. "I don't know if I should give you my name. Even people who tolerate me when they first meet me change after they know who I am."  
  
"I know what that's like. I have very few friends outside of my family because most people see me as the Prince rather than as Trowa." The blonde just shook its head.  
  
"You asked for it." Those ancient eyes came up again. "I won't give you the name I used in Atlantis, because I swore never to allow people to ever hurt me again with it. However the name they gave me after condemning me is well known." A bittersweet smile that Trowa had not seen since he had first met him appeared. "They call me Lucifer, Light-Bearer."  
  
"Why?" The winged one looked nonplused. "Why do they call you that?"  
  
"You're not running away. That's a first." The wings shook as the other cleared its head. The right hand, free as the left held the sargasso. Upon it appeared a small ball of light. It changed and flickered and danced. "In return for being alone for all time, I received this as a consolation. No matter how lonely I am, no matter how dark or cold it gets, I can call this up and forget my pains in its light for a while. A cheap illusion for an eternity of punishment, but I would have gone mad faster without it."  
  
"It's beautiful."  
  
"I suppose."  
  
That was the beginning of a change for them. On the surface, they went on as they always had. They made no reference to Trowa's position or Lucifer's unfortunate reputation. But underneath . . . Maybe it was the fact that Trowa had begun to take over more of his father's responsibilities or his family urging him to marry. Maybe it was the way Lucifer shivered in the cooling air of fall or the blood that fell hissing in the water from his wings when Lucifer flew away. But something changed between them, a web drawing them closer together, a knot binding them tighter. And Trowa felt he was beginning to understand Catherine's choice.  
  
That feeling grew and grew until he found himself visiting the sea-witch. "Well, I didn't expect to see anyone again so soon, never mind a member of the royal family." The witch tossed short sea-sand hair behind her shoulders. "What could possibly drive you to seek me out? I can't raise your sister from the dead, no matter how sorry I am about what happened to her."  
  
"No, no it's not that." He didn't really know what he was doing, but somehow the words kept spilling out of his mouth. "Do you know of the Children of the Air?" She nodded. "Have you ever heard of one named Lucifer?" She gasped and sagged back on her throne.  
  
"He still alive after all these years?" She continued without waiting for a response. "Yes, I do know of him. He is, was, no, still is my little brother." The witch pulled herself together. "What is this about?"  
  
"I was wondering if there was anyway to change him back to a merperson."  
  
She shook her head. "No. At least none that I know of, and I've been at this almost as long as he's been condemned." She peered at him, with the same sea-sky eyes that her brother had. "This is important to you. Why?"  
  
He shrugged. "I-I, uh, I just pity him. Even if he never makes it to heaven, that's a long time to be alone, never seeing your home." She looked dubious. "Really, I'm just being kind."  
  
"A bird and a fish may fall in love but where would they make their nest?" She muttered to herself. "There is one potion that will change him, but he will become human, not mer. And it needs two people to work."  
  
"Give it to me." She shook her head. "I already have one death of your family on my head, I do not want more blood on my hands. Besides, it changes both participants to human, not just one. The cost is high, to never see your family again, to live a mere century rather than the three or four that merfolk do. And if your sister danced on needles, then you will walk on hot coals."  
  
"Is that why you never aided him yourself? You're afraid? And why didn't you give it to my sister instead of keeping it?"  
  
"I didn't give it to your sister because of the added pain and risk. The same cost would have killed her, the principal is still the same. And I'm too old to use it; I'd die and he'd still be trapped in Limbo. If I had discovered this just a hundred years before I did, then I could have aided him, but now there is no one left to take the leap with him."  
  
"I'll risk it." She was about to continue arguing, but he whipped out the enchanted blade that she had given him for Catherine and pressed it against her throat. "You can give it to me or I'll use your own power against you."  
  
"You leave me with no choice. It's a good thing he already has a soul, he can share it with you. However I need something in return. Get me feather from his wing." She turned away.   
  
That day he returned to the reef, bearing the skull of an eel. "Lucifer may I ask you a favor?"  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"May I keep a feather from your wing?" The other did not look convinced. "I just realized I have nothing to remind me of you when I go home."  
  
"Did something happen? If you can't see me anymore-"  
  
"No that's not it. But talking to you once a day, it just isn't enough anymore."  
  
Those ancient eyes scrutinized him. "Your hiding something from me." Trowa shrugged, trying to pass it off as general stress. They had begun to talk about the pressure Trowa was under; Lucifer gave him good advice for dealing with his government, putting lie to the belief he was a bad councilor. "Keep it to yourself if you like. But my feathers are sharp and would draw your blood if you could touch them."  
  
"Still, I have nothing else."  
  
"As you like. It's one of the few things I can do." Then Lucifer plucked one iridescent feather from those rainbow wings and when he placed it on Trowa's cupped palms it did not dissolve into foam. And Trowa returned it to the witch, who pricked her breast with it to put her black blood in her cauldron then wrapped a shining wire around it to wear as a necklace..  
  
The vial she handed to him was clear, but the potion inside was a deep molten red, with flickers of green and blue sparkling in it. "Trowa?" He turned back to her. "I won't charge you for this, but could you tell him that Iria still loves him? I don't know if he even remembers me."  
  
He nodded. "And Iria . . . Thank you. For . . . for everything."  
  
First, he collected a number of treasures and other practical items, like clothes that he knew they would need. Watching Catherine had taught him the rudiments of human life. Then he swam back to the reef and waited impatiently for Lucifer to arrive. "Would you like to live again?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your sister Iria, she gave me this" He showed the potion. "She said it would make you into a human. I'll come with you." Lucifer still looked confused. "It needs to people to work, so we'd both become human. You still wouldn't see Iria, but then when you die you could still ascend to heaven. And anything's better than what you have now, right?"  
  
"I'd trade a thousand of my years for your worst day. But two people? I can't ask you to do that for me."  
  
"Please, Lucifer. If not for yourself, for me. I could talk to you every day of my life and it wouldn't be enough. How could I live with myself knowing some day I would ascend, leaving you to suffer alone forever." He didn't know why he was so desperate, but he knew he would do anything to save Lucifer from his fate.  
  
For a long time the other was silent. "Very well." Trowa sighed with relief then led him to the deserted beach where he had placed those things he had gathered. Then he unstoppered the vial and drank down half of the burning red potion. Then Lucifer drank the other half.  
  
They awoke to the morning sun. "Trowa?" He looked around. Beside him, halo'd by the dawning sun, Lucifer had wrapped a dark blue silk cloth around himself like a toga. The shards that had made up his wings were scattered all about him. "It worked. It really worked." He tried to stand up, but nearly fell over from the pain.  
  
"Trowa!" Lucifer stood up and caught him. He was remarkably strong for such a fragile frame. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Iria warned me. Like walking on burning embers. Don't worry, I'll get used to it."  
  
The other gaped. "I can't believe you did this for me! Is there nothing I can do?" Trowa shook his head. "It doesn't matter. There's nothing you can do."  
  
"Trowa . . . I'm not worth it."  
  
"You are!" He was surprised by his own vehemence. "You comforted me when no one else even knew I was sad, supported me when others heaped more problems on me. Lucifer, I would give every drop of blood happily if it would make you smile. Not those bitter, cynical smiles you usually give, but a real one. Like when I showed you those clownfish from the Azores, or when I sang those nursery rhymes for you, silly as they were." He was becoming hysterical but he couldn't stop himself. "I'm sorry. I don't even know if you want to be human."  
  
"Trowa" Lucifer took his face between his hands. "You still shouldn't have. To give up your family, your friends, your position . . . I never believed anyone could care for me that much."   
  
Trowa cleared his throat and smiled. "I'm sorry about breaking down like that." They got dressed and collected themselves. "I can't call you Lucifer, too many people have bad connotations with that name."  
  
The other nodded. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it in hesitation. Finally he said, "I'm going to tell you something I haven't told anyone since I died."  
  
"What?"  
  
"My real name. I didn't want to be that person ever again, I didn't want to be hurt ever again so I changed myself. I made Lucifer a name to be feared. But you've convinced me."  
  
He smiled then pressed a hand to his heart. "My name is Quatre Raberba Winner."  
  
That smile was more beautiful than the dawn to Trowa. He reached out and embraced his friend, laughing and crying and so full of joy that it imbued the air around them with a golden glow. As he finally set Lucifer, no Quatre back down on the ground again he noticed something. "I guess you did do something about that."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"That pain. It's gone."  
  
And there were two, not one, miracles to celebrate. 


End file.
